


Journal Entries

by Bullet_Sangwich



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, holograms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 15:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1946190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bullet_Sangwich/pseuds/Bullet_Sangwich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simmons is annoyed when Grif and Sarge leave him back at Valhalla. He finds comfort under the Red base, however, when a hologram of Grif spills his deepest secrets.</p><p>(Set between Episode 6 of Recreation and Episode 4 of Revelation)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Journal Entries

It is a well known fact that in his particular line of work, Dick Simmons is annoyed by everything. On a good day, it's just the Blues shouting nonsense at them. On a bad day, it's normally something along the lines of Simmons doing hard work and Sarge/Grif/Donut taking the credit.

This time, however, was the last straw.

Since when did Grif take up his position as Red Team's kiss-ass? Why do they get to go on a probably-super-cool-and-important misson with Caboose while he stays behind to provide "logistical support"?

"Dammit!" shouted Simmons as he angrily fired a rocket at a holographic copy of Sarge's newest Warthog. "Fucking Grif! 'No one likes a kiss-ass, Simmons!' Well the tables have turned, my friend!"

He fired another rocket at a holographic Grif. He felt a little remorseful after, but also slightly more inclined to believe Sarge's method of killing as a stress reliever. Simmons sat down on a small slab of rock close to the hologram controls. He ripped off his helmet and tossed it to the side. Burying his face in his hands, he let a small sob out. He was angry, confused, and hurt. Simmons didn't understand it; Grif was a good friend to him. Sure he was lazy, disgusting, and teased Simmons all day, he was actually one of the only people that didn't annoy him all that much. Well, he did, but in a really good way.

"You know, Simmons, he really does care for you."

Simmons yelped and fell off the rock. "Grif?" he asked, bewildered.

"Well, not really. Just a hologram." Holo-Grif replied.

Simmons collected himself. "What are you talking about? If he cared for me, he'd at least treat me with a little more respect!"

"Believe what you want, Simmons, but you don't have access to his nightly journals," said Holo-Grif.

Simmons' stomach knotted, and he felt his face flush. "That's a bluff. There's no way he actually does those. He's too lazy and irresponsible."

Holo-Grif shrugged. "See them or don't. It's up to you." Simmons thought about it a moment. "Fine. Show me then, let me see how he 'really feels' about me."

"Pff," Holo-Grif started, "Where should I start? Should I start with a recent one?"

"I don't care." The hologram disappeared, and another, different one took its place. A loud yawn started the journal session off.

Of course, Simmons thought.

"Uh, Journal start. Or whatever. I don't fucking know." said Grif's voice. Simmons quietly giggled. "You know, as kiss-assy as he can be, Simmons is damn smart. It's actually totally cool ." Simmons smiled, hearing Grif let his feelings out. "But what really pisses me off is when Sarge doesn't see it. Like, he tries so hard, you know, and Sarge just fucking ignores it or shoots it down. Sometimes, I just want to grab Sarge and shake him until he actually gains an ounce of sense. He'd probably shoot me in the face, but if it got him to listen to Simmons, then it'd be worth it."

Before Simmons could speak, another entry started.

"I'm skipping the awkward intro today. So, uh, yeah. Today, Simmons and I had a really great conversation. I really like talking to him, cause he's super smart and he actually gives a shit about what I have to say. Also, don't tell Simmons, but I think it's adorable when he talks about videogames and Battlestar Galactica. As much as I want to put up my tough guy act, sometimes I really just want to nerd out with him. I wonder if he'd ever cosplay with me..."

Another entry played.

"Uh, Journal? Promise you won't tell, but I think I'm starting to fall hard for Simmons. I know that sounds totally dumb and cheesy, but God dammit, that's how I feel. Everything he does is fucking adorable. I just want to sit around and watch him talk and do shit around the base. Is it fucked up if I drop an Oreo just so he'll pick it up and I can look at his butt? Cause I'm pretty sure it's worth it."

Simmons was stunned. Grif's journals brought tears to his eyes. Holo-Grif reappeared before him. "I told you, Simmons. He really does care. He fucking loves you." Simmons looked up at the hologram. "Hold on a second," the hologram spoke. "He's doing one right now. Should I show you?"

"Yes! Absolutely!" Simmons said.

"Okay," Holo-Grif said before disappearing.

"Uh, hello again. Well, Sarge insisted on stopping for tonight, so I figured I'd do this while he and Caboose aren't close by." Simmons smiled and listened on. "So, uh, I'm pretty sure Simmons is pissed at me, and that really sucks, considering.. well, you know. Anyway, I feel kinda shitty about it. I know he would have loved to come with us, and honestly, he totally deserves to be here more than me. I just wanted to take initiative, cause maybe that way he'd like me back or whatever. Boy, did I fuck that up."

Simmons' heart sunk. Sure, he was pissed before, but now he felt totally different. Of course he liked Grif back, he always had. He just would have never said anything.

"You know what? I'm done just fucking dancing around my feelings." said Grif, his tone suddenly changing to a more confident one. "When I get back to Valhalla, I'm gonna tell him. I don't fucking care anymore. I'll do it as cheesy as possible too! I'll tell him, and then I'm gonna kiss every single one of the freckles on his face." Grif paused. "Oh man. I am in love with him. Bottom line. I will scream it to the heavens if I have to."

"Uh, that's it. He finished." said Holo-Grif. Simmons sat back, tears welling up in his eyes. He no longer felt upset with Grif, and was finally happy to really have an idea of what was actually between them.

* * *

_"So, what is that thing, like some kind of pet?"_

_"Yeah, I guess you could say that. Come on, I'll fill you in."_

* * *

 

With the Warthog in disrepair yet again, the Reds found themselves walking back to the temples to meet up with Tucker and Caboose. Thankfully, they found an abandoned Warthog that seemed to be in working condition, so they got to the temples within a few hours. During the whole journey, however, Grif told Simmons everything he needed to know.

Well, not _everything_.

Simmons wandered around the inside of the temple, silently playing back Grif's journals in his head. "Why didn't he tell me?" he asked himself. Knowing he couldn't find an answer, he sighed. Finding a quiet spot, Simmons sat down and removed his helmet. He tried playing Grif's last journal entry again in his head. That one was his favorite.

A few minutes passed, and finally Simmons got up and headed back to where everyone had made camp for the night. When he got back, he removed the bulkiest part of his armor and laid down. He shut his eyes, listening to the soft snores of everyone around him. One sound, however, was not snoring, but... talking?

Grif was doing another journal entry. Simmons' stomach churned. He got up, carefully heading towards the source.

"...I really wussed out today," Grif spoke. "I wanted to tell Simmons how I felt, but I didn't think the next trip to Valhalla was gonna involve me driving through a wall and hitting Washington with the Warthog." He did that? Simmons thought. "Hell, I would have done anything else just to save Simmons from those two assholes. I'm just glad the Meta didn't gut him when he had the chance. Man..." Grif paused for a moment,"If the Meta had done anything to him, I would have murdered him right there."

A tear rolled down Simmons' cheek. Grif really did care, more than he could have ever imagined. He leaned over to keep listening, but heard Grif's voice getting farther away. Letting curiosity get the better of him, he followed the sound of his voice until he realized Grif finished his journal entry. Simmons turned the corner to see Grif sitting on the edge of the temple, staring out at the sky. Not knowing what to do or say, Simmons let his instincts take over.

"Can't sleep?" he asked quietly. Grif turned around and smiled at Simmons. "Nah. Figured a bit of fresh air would help." Simmons blushed. "Mind if I join you?"

"Sure," Grif said, patting the ground next to him. Simmons complied, sitting down next to Grif. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Simmons opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Getting nowhere, he eventually got up. "I'm going to bed," he grumbled. Before he could get very far, Simmons felt his hand being tugged. "Simmons," Grif said quietly. "There's something I haven't told you. Like, for a really, really, really long time." Simmons could feel Grif's hand shaking slightly. He smiled softly and sat back down.

Grif blushed, meeting Simmons' eyes after a moment. He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Uh, Simmons, I just wanted to tell you.. that I, uh, really.. um.." Grif stopped himself again. Mustering up some courage, he spoke again.

"Simmons, I think I'm in love with you," he finally said. "We've spent, like, every day together, and I just love everything that you say, and how you act, and how passionate you are when you talk about stuff. I mean, you're so fucking smart, and sometimes I feel kinda shitty in comparison, but I am still so amazed that I don't even care. I know that I probably annoy the shit out of you and I'm sorry about that, but I just really like hanging out with you and I only do it out of affection." Grif tried to gauge Simmons' reaction, but only became worried when there wasn't one.

"God dammit, Simmons. I fucking love you. Okay?"

Still no reaction.

Grif felt desperate. "Look, I'm sorry to just spout this at you. I'm not asking you to love me back, but-"

Grif's words were lost when Simmons leaned over and kissed him. His eyes fluttered shut and he relaxed into the kiss. They stayed like that for a few minutes before Simmons separated from Grif. "I love you too, Grif." Grif smiled as he kissed Simmons all over his face, just like he promised his journal. When he finished, he planted one more kiss on Simmons' lips. Grif pulled back and grinned.

"I hate to kill this awesome mood," Simmons said, "But we should probably get back inside. We've got a big couple of days ahead of us."

"Yeah, I guess," Grif spoke softly. He got up and extended his hand to Simmons, blushing slightly. Simmons smiled and took Grif's hand. They walked back into the temple, hands clasped together.

"So..." Grif started.

"So?" Simmons replied.

"Are we.. you know.. a thing?" Simmons thought a moment. "Yeah, Grif. I think we are."

Grif sighed contentedly. "Good. I'm glad."

* * *

It is a well-known fact that in his particular line of work, Dick Simmons is annoyed by everything.

Well, not _everything_.


End file.
